


When She Came Back

by tollie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Hatefest, F/F, Handmaidens, Lesbian Farmers Stealing Your Jobs, Padmé Amidala Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10004774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tollie/pseuds/tollie
Summary: Dormé looks back on her relationship with Padmé, and recieves an unexpected visitor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my wonderful girlfriend Carly for all her help with Star Wars lore and locations so that this fic makes at least a little bit of sense! I love you so much babe, and happy Femslash February! This fic is dedicated to you.

Dormé often thought of the day she learned of Padmé’s death. She had been sitting at home (or what she now called home – a one room apartment in Ord Mantell City), patching up a tear in one of her fine robes. Not that she had much of an occasion to wear them anymore – she hardly ever left her house, since the rise of the Empire had put quite a target on her back. The space above the holotable in the middle of the room, set up for emergencies, had begun to blink, and she stood up, letting her sewing implements clatter to the floor.

She could make out the outline of a man, who became clearer after a moment – it was Captain Typho. She recognized him, even on her small, out of date holotable, by the patch over his left eye, and the fierce resolve that always shone in his right.

“Dormé? Dormé, can you hear me?” he said. His breathing was quick, his voice strained with urgency. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Yes, yes I can hear you,” Dormé responded, approaching the table. “What is it?”

“Dormé,” Typho said, and she had never heard him say her name that way before. “It’s Padmé Amidala. I’m so sorry to tell you this. She’s dead.”

Dormé remembered only that she had collapsed to the ground, and that night she disconnected her holotable, locking her doors, blacking out her windows. She had cried for a week straight, and when she opened her curtains once more, the sight of the world outside brought her no joy.

She and Padmé had once shared everything. She had been the closest handmaiden to Senator Amidala, the former youngest Queen of Naboo, and a beloved one, at that. She had put her life on the line for Padmé time and time again, and she never regretted it, not once. They were inseparable, for a time. It was a time of peace, she realized now. A time before Anakin Skywalker had returned, and with his manipulative and power-hungry ways he had torn Padmé from her true self – and from Dormé.

Her anger toward him did not change anything. She had not asked Captain Typho how Padmé had died – in her grief, she hadn’t thought to ask, and she could never bring herself to bring it up on the rare occasion she spoke to him. At any rate, she did not need to wonder. She had known from the start that Anakin Skywalker would never be good for Padmé. She had more than enough reason to suspect that he was responsible for her death.

Bitterly, she would recall the night Padmé had told Dormé she was to leave with him – though she knew the escalating war, and not only Anakin, was the reason she had left. Dormé sat behind Padmé on her bed, brushing out her long hair with a Chammion ivory comb.

“I have to go away, Dormé,” Padmé had said, her voice heavy with grief. “It’s not safe for me here.”

“Where will you go, my lady?” Dormé had asked, her hand faltering. The comb slipped through her fingers, which she ran absently through Padmé’s hair.

She shook her head. “I don’t know, not yet.” She turned to face Dormé. “It’s been arranged that you and Typho stay here, where you will act as my decoy,” she said slowly. “But ultimately, that choice is yours to make.”

Considering her options, Dormé knew she could not rightly do anything else. “I must do whatever is in my power to keep you safe, my lady.” Her voice shook, cheeks streaked with falling tears.

“Thank you, Dormé.” Padmé embraced her. Dormé ran her hands along Padmé’s back, and the silken fabric of her nightgown was a small comfort to her. Some nights she had held Padmé as she cried through nightmares, calling out for Cordé and Versé, crying for help from would-be assassins in her dreams, and she had stroked Padmé’s back, just as she did now, the soft material sliding effortlessly beneath her fingers. She wanted to feel that softness beneath her hands, feel Padmé’s warmth against her, forever, though she knew the end would come too soon.

She stayed in the room with Padmé that night. Despite herself, it thrilled her that Padmé shared with her the same intimacy that she shared with Anakin, if only because it meant her love for him was not as all-consuming as it had seemed. Dormé knew she was wrong to have such thoughts – after all, it was Anakin she would leave with, come morning.

She would have given anything to see Padmé again. Now, she never, ever would.

 

~~~

 

It was the middle of the night, and a loud knock came at her door. She sprang up out of bed, reaching for the blaster hidden in a compartment in her nightstand. Ord Mantell City was crawling with criminals, and she had weapons hidden in a few different places. This particular one was only equipped with a stun setting – but whoever the midnight caller was, they didn’t have to know that.

Dormé looked through the peephole in her front door, careful not to make a sound. On the other side stood a hooded figure. “Who goes there?” she asked, gripping the blaster with white knuckles.

“A friend,” came a voice, too familiar. Dormé’s hands flew to the lock, and the blaster fell to the floor as she swung the door open. The figure lowered her hood, and, though she looked different, there they were – Padmé’s eyes, her face, her hands, her lips --

Dormé gasped. “It can’t be! I – I thought you were dead!”

Padmé brought a finger to her lips. “We should speak inside,” she said, and Dormé ushered her in, closing the door behind them.

Her hair was no longer done up in elaborate twists, but fell down around her face, shorn off around her shoulders. She wore heavy makeup meant to conceal her features, but of course, Dormé would know that face anywhere.

“How...?” she started to ask. Padmé was flitting around the room, making sure curtains were shut and the holotable shut off.

“No one can hear us?” Padmé said, low and serious. Dormé shook her head. “Good.”

She spoke in a whirlwind, seeming to get the whole story out in one breath. Once she had discovered her pregnancy, Padmé had begun formulating a plan to get herself and her child (children, to her surprise) away from Anakin. She, with Obi-Wan’s help, had conspired to fake her death, and that of her children – but all had not gone as planned. Padmé touched the base of her neck tenderly as she spoke.

“It was Anakin,” she explained. “He... he was angry. He used the Force, and nearly killed me.” She stopped for a moment, her eyes growing far away. Dormé put a hand on Padmé’s shoulder, pure hatred for Anakin Skywalker bubbling in her chest.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Padmé shook her head.

“That’s why I didn’t come sooner,” she said, her eyes meeting Dormé’s. “Bail took me in, kept me safe – got me a doctor,” she continued. “And I was able to see Leia.” She smiled tearfully.

“Your daughter’s name?” Dormé asked, and Padmé nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

Padmé’s wistful smile fell, and she leaned in close to Dormé, suddenly serious again. “Dormé, I have something to ask of you. And I want you to answer, not as my handmaiden, but as my friend.”

Dormé nodded, already knowing the answer to whatever it was, anything, would be yes.

“I want us to go away together,” Padmé continued. Dormé’s eyes began to sting, and she launched herself into Padmé’s arms, to the latter’s surprise. She cleaved to Padmé’s chest, tears sinking into her woolen robe.

“Anywhere you ask, my lady,” Dormé said, looking up at her. Her life here had grown so miserable, so isolated – Padmé’s arrival here, and her request to run away – it seemed impossible, like a dream come true.

“Please, just Padmé... please,” Padmé said, gripping Dormé by the hand.

“Padmé,” Dormé said. The name felt smooth and precious, like jewels rolling off her tongue. “I think I know the perfect place. Do you remember the camping trip we took, years ago, on a small planet in the Mid Rim...”

“Yes,” said Padmé. “That is perfect. Ready yourself, then meet me at my ship. It’s at the docking station just near here.” She put up the hood of her robe once more, shrouding her face in shadow.

Dormé caught her arm as she made toward the door. “No need,” she said. “I’m ready now. There is nothing for me here.”

She gestured around the small room which she had called her home for the past year. It was mostly barren. A few dresses hung up on a rack in the corner, all that remained of her previous life. She grabbed a cloak from the hook by the door and draped it around her shoulders, then scooped up the blaster she had dropped on the floor, and followed Padmé out the apartment door, and through the dark streets to the docking station.

While Ord Mantell was in the Mid Rim as well, it was very far from Takodana. As they readied the ship, Padmé mused about stopping off at Alderaan on the way back.

“It’s only a little out of the way,” she said. “You could meet Leia.” She gave Dormé a small, sad smile.

Dormé smiled back. She could think of nothing she would like more. “I would love to,” she said.

 

~~~

 

Bail Organa didn’t give them much of a welcome. He had been preoccupied – and rightly so – with resisting the rising threat of the Empire, and was out the door as soon as they entered it, “on political business,” as he put it. But Breha was warm, and made them food to eat, giving them extra rations to take on their journey.

Leia was asleep when they arrived. Padmé stood above her cradle, singing softly to the sleeping baby, and Dormé was mesmerized – Padmé had always been a nurturing soul, and seeing her with her daughter filled Dormé with a kind of pride.

“Oh!” Padmé gasped, the biggest smile Dormé had ever seen lighting up her face. “She’s awake! There’s my little girl!”

The baby’s hand reached up, grasping Padmé by her index finger. Padmé leaned down, making kissing noises and babbling gibberish along with Leia. She picked up her daughter, and Dormé pictured her as Queen again, long, elaborate gown, and a crown perched atop impossible coils of hair, with her baby daughter clad all in white. She saw Padmé raising Leia above her, the sun reflecting off one of Naboo’s beautiful lakes, green and beauty all around them. Then in a flash it was gone, and there they were on Alderaan, in transit. It was quite likely that Padmé would never see her daughter again after today. Dormé could hardly bear it.

“Padmé,” she said softly, out of earshot of Breha, who was busying herself in the kitchen. “We could take her with us.” She said it quickly, before she lost her nerve. “We’ll live off the land. We could raise her. She could be with her mother.” She figured it was a long shot, and Padmé’s serious expression as she lowered Leia into her crib told her this assumption was correct.

“That’s not possible,” Padmé said sadly. “I sent Leia here for a reason. Anakin could still find me. I can’t let him find Leia, or Luke, too.”

Dormé nodded. Padmé always did know what was best.

They stayed a while longer. Leia had begun walking, and could toddle around the house when she had the inclination. Breha, as she told them, thought it was remarkable, how early she had developed many skills most infants her age did not yet possess.

“Bail thinks she may be force sensitive,” Breha whispered, and Padmé shook her head.

“You must not pursue it further,” Padmé said emphatically. “Not after what happened to the Jedi.”

Breha simply nodded.

They thanked her for the hospitality, and Padmé said a tearful goodbye to baby Leia, who waved back, grinning, unaware that her mother was leaving, probably for good.

They boarded the small ship, now crowded with provisions and supplies from Breha, and began priming the hyperdrive. As they left the planet, Padmé looked down on its surface, and a smile played at her lips.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “I think Leia will have a good life there.”

Dormé nodded, smiling back at Padmé. They took off into hyperspace, on their way toward the Western Reaches.

 

~~~

 

These days, Dormé hardly ever thought of her tiny apartment on Ord Mantell. She lived with Padmé in a little house in the forests of Takodana. They grew their own food, and rarely, ventured to a settlement or to Maz Kanata's for supplies or (even more rarely) for leisure. They lived close to the sea, and often took a couple of speeders down to the shore, sitting together on the cool sand and watching the sun set.

Their little farm sustained them well enough. They adopted a scraggly loth-cat when it wandered up to them on the beach one day. Its tawny fur was wet with ocean spray, and it _mewled_ at them as it approached.

“He must have escaped from some smuggler,” Padmé said, and reached a hand out to the creature, letting it sniff her. It rubbed up against her hand, purring, and she picked it up. “Poor thing!”

“He likes you!” Dormé giggled. “Oh Padmé, please, let’s take him home with us!”

The fear of Anakin or the Empire finding them hung over them always, like a dark cloud. But still, Padmé seemed happy. And that was enough for Dormé. Though she often did think of their trip to Alderaan and her vision of Padmé and Leia, she never mentioned it. She knew Padmé thought of that day often, too.

Still, Dormé had to admit, sitting at home, Padmé’s arm around her, and the little loth-cat purring on her lap – it was a good life. As they rattled off possible names for the new family member, Dormé let her head fall onto Padmé’s shoulder. Padmé leaned in for a kiss, soft and tender.

 _Meow,_ the loth-cat protested, and they both laughed. “Maybe I’ll call you Threepio,” Padmé said. “He always did know just the right moment to interrupt.”

Little Threepio just purred, and stretched himself out over both of their knees.

So many times, over so many years, Dormé would have died for Padmé. At that moment, though, she was very glad she hadn't.


End file.
